"I hope you are not offended but... you seem very...infantile...undeveloped for sake of no better term."
~we speak to you through your own mind, and so we are what you make of us! we are gub!~
Inside the Red Tower of Power...Niklas does believe that he is, in fact, in.
"I'm in!"The receptionist seems to believe he is in as well, and takes the contract right back.
"Great. Now head up the far left staircase. You'll eventually come to a really noisy room. That's where some Minor Mentors should be hanging out. Tap one you like on the shoulder or something, and they'll set you up."At the shipwreck-rich beach of Mothdale...Scott, while carrying on a delightful conversation with the gub, tries to melt some sand.
[Scott's firestarting roll: 4]
Well, he manages to set off a rather nice fire at a sandy patch, but, lacking anything to burn, it quickly dissipates. Aw.
Sigmund, meanwhile, examines the teapot's metaphysical knots. After all, an object can't look this weird and not be magical, right? He looks it over carefully. Hm. The knots look a bit strange, he thinks, but he can't quite put his finger on what the reason for this might be. The teapot certainly looks suspicious, and since somebody named Little Tommy wants it back, it probably has some value to somebody.
~little tommy is fast approaching, sigmund! there is no time for tomfoolery!~Looking up from the pot, Sigmund does notice something running at him from the distance. Wonder if that's who the gub meant?
A ways from Blynn...Timothy, barely able to contain his enthusiasm, quickly checks if he's still invisible. He realizes that he isn't, and seems to be perfectly visible instead. Better fix that!
[Timothy's invisibility roll: 4]
This proves quite simple, all things considered. He is now once again mostly invisible. Aside from the giant ball of food, that is. He descends toward Blynn, reaching the place within the hour. Were there any locals looking at the sky at that point, they might have noticed a black dot flying downward right at their beloved, yet suffering town. But there aren't many of those, and this singularly unusual event goes mostly unremarked upon except by men and women of great leisure, which Blynn has quite a shortage of right now. And so Timothy lands undisturbed near the inn that the guy with the dog inhabited.
When his eyes rest on the door, Timothy realizes a few things. Firstly, he's well on his way to properly helping a person now! Secondly, there is no way he's fitting that sphere of foodstuffs through the door.
At one of Mothdale's mortuaries...Mark, getting a bad feeling, thinks that he needs to visit some kind of bar.
"Where are my companion who is running a bar I think my statue would fit best there."~you have no such companion! and we shall move your statue elsewhere soon! your advice is rather uninformed, after all!~Oh well. Guess Mark isn't going to get the opportunity to have a drink today after all.
Outside the Ponderous Tingfish...Morton guesses he'll just ask the guy who's in there what's up. He slowly shambles inside, noticing that there is indeed only a single patron, a rather well-built man in a robe. Probably an important sort.
"Excuse me, good sir, if you have the time could I perhaps ask a question? I'm trying to find my friend, he's about so-high," the desk says, raising his arm to about... well, a bit less than Kevin's height - Morton's sadly too lacking in the height department to provide an accurate demonstration -,
"and has quite a peculiar attire and look, typically rather amusing? ...Perhaps a tad foul-mouthed though, I do admit. I was informed he was supposed to be here."Just then,
Kevin, his impulses of charity and kindness to his fellows having overcome his sense of self-preservation, pokes his head into the tavern.
"DON'T TRUST HIM! HE CUT MY LEG OFF!" he shrieks, then turns tail and hops away on his single leg. Morton has to pause to process this a moment. Hm. The patron seems to be devoting his attention to him now, looking at his surface earnestly. Maybe this has all been some kind of misunderstanding!
[Fiendishly Impolite Patron vs. Morton: 3+2 vs. 2]
Suddenly, the patron's entire body seems to coil up as he seems to draw a rather long, silvery object - a bladed whip? Before Morton can react, the whip streaks through the air, cutting a rather sizable gouge in his demon-blessed finish. Now that's definitely not a polite way to converse, Morton thinks. Maybe Kevin had a bit of a point there.
~maybe it would be better to leave him alone! he seems to highly dislike company for some reason!~Kevin, meanwhile, cheeses it like there's no tomorrow, hopping through the streets in search of a mortuary. Eventually, he does believe he's found something - a graveyard! The mortuary shouldn't be too far away, he thinks.